


I Will Sing No Requiem

by YanNoa



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Denial, Drabble, HenPat, Kinda, M/M, One Shot, Pathen, Short, Short Story, a little angsty, characters are mostly just mentioned, relies on a mix between the book the movie and my imagination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 15:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanNoa/pseuds/YanNoa
Summary: Henry's reaction to Patrick's disappearance.





	I Will Sing No Requiem

_“Such a great son and wonderful friend _

_Don’t the tears just pour?” _

He didn’t care. He would swear it on his mother, he didn’t care. He would swear it on his mother and ignore the fact that the word “mother” is just a noun he knows without any emotional charge in it.

Patrick going missing wasn’t really a surprise for anyone.

“Probably ran off.”

“Probably the psych ward got him.”

“Probably joined the circus.” followed by childish laughs.

“Probably the crazy killer in Derry got him.”

“Actually, probably he _was_ the crazy killer in Derry and had to scape.”

So funny. So entertaining to theorize on his friend going missing. His friend? More or less. Leave it or take it.

No, it wasn’t surprising when Patrick ran away, it was more disappointing. He didn’t care. Not really. But Patrick had been getting closer and closer that summer. To him, mostly. Vic and Belch didn’t really like him (what kind of _psychopath_ would _like_ Patrick?), so sometimes it was just them. Sometimes, when it was dark outside. Too dark. Too dark even for people like Vic and Belch. He had Patrick then. On his mother he didn’t care if he had him, but he did. If someone had told him that Patrick was skipping town his first thought would have been “where are we staying?”. The money he would have lost on betting that Patrick would have asked him to go with him, or at least told him. Thank god there was no bet.

And that’s the thing. If _he_ didn’t care, why would Henry? Why would anyone, actually? Again, on his mother, but he couldn’t help thinking about it. About why would people care? Why was there a parade of neighbors giving the Hockstetter’s casseroles of food every time they rode by their house? (Just because that was their usual routine, not because Henry cared, not because Belch knew that Henry cared, not because Henry swore a little too much that he didn’t, yet still looked at Patrick’s bedroom’s window until it was out of sight every time they passed by his house). It disgusted him. The hypocrisy of it. The Hockstetter’s weren’t really hated like Patrick was. They were fine, he guessed. How fine, tho, if they only raised Patrick (and their second chance at raising a normal kid ended early because they couldn’t care enough to place him right side up in his crib). Something about nature vs nurture, he guessed.

People didn’t like Patrick. So why are there posters with his face, over the second most recently going missing kid’s face, all across town? Why are people hugging Mrs. Hockstetter and giving her a _special home-made_ cake? Like a fucking celebration. He doesn’t really care about it all, but even _he _knows that giving _a cake_ to a parent that just lost their kid is no help at all unless said kid is inside that fucking white frosting. And also, he _knows_ better than to _care_. Because it was _Patrick_. And someone like Patrick doesn’t just disappear into thin air. Someone like Patrick runs away. Alone, apparently. Who would have guessed?

He didn’t care. And he won’t acknowledge his father asking him if he knew something about “That skinny kid, wasn’t he your _friend_?”, like he should know. Eyes looking like he was waiting for Henry to say something wrong so he would have an excuse to beat him, to call him a _**faggot**_. <strike>_**“Why do you hang around so much with that queer?” **_</strike>

Only the truth came out, “No.” Why would he, anyways?

“Probably got what he had coming.”

He won’t acknowledge how Vic side eyed him whenever someone mentioned Patrick. He won’t acknowledge the worry in his gaze. He won’t acknowledge how empty the seat behind his in Belch’s car felt; nor the times someone would crack a joke and there would be an space of silence that could only be filled with a sardonic laugh. One that didn’t really fit any of them. Or anyone else he knew.

“Like when people lose a limb and they can still feel it hurting” he thought sometimes. It wasn’t that he cared (on his mother), it was just that he had grown used to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I just had this bug in my head and had to do something about it.   
Any comment is appreciated!
> 
> PS: english is not my first lenguage, so I may have wrote wrong a couple of things here and there oopsie.


End file.
